


A Long as You Need Me

by Featherlight_Stories



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 12:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13481910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherlight_Stories/pseuds/Featherlight_Stories
Summary: OC is a dear and close friend of Derek Morgan. As soon as he finds out she went through a night of domestic violence, he goes to find her--and take care of her.Comfort read for other survivors. UPDATED.





	A Long as You Need Me

The cut on my lip stung but had finally stopped bleeding. My head and steadily swelling eye throbbed in time with my heart beat. I leaned over the bathroom sink in exhaustion; the porcelain was stained red with the blood from my nose.

I couldn’t look at my reflection.

Months of emotional abuse had finally come to a head. I didn’t think that was I even in a toxic relationship. Giving my statement to the police while in a hospital bed had finally convinced me otherwise. 

Today had started with me asking permission to spend time with Derek, one of my closest friends. Michael was immediately jealous and then, suspicious. He had eyed me from the couch, frowning deeply while I tried not to look nervous. It would have given him more reason to doubt me. 

But Michael had already made up his mind about my relationship with Derek; none of my posturing would have changed that. He started with insults, and when I didn’t respond, he became angrier. Michael was so sure I was cheating. I had tried to tell him I wasn’t, that I only loved _ him _ , but it was like talking to wall. Michael was sure and he was determined to make me understand. When he got up from the couch, every line of him was aggressive. How he held his shoulders, how he bent forward to tower over me. 

And after months of emotional abuse, he beat me for the first time. My neighbor had called the police when our screams became intolerable. They arrested him after discovering my unconscious body shoved against the tub, despite his attempt at bluffing. The night at the hospital and the meetings with the police were a blur. I had given so many statements. I had just wanted this to be over; I just wanted to crawl under a rock and resume a normal life.

I decided to charge him anyway.

I’d told no one. I now stayed alone in another hotel, far away, and on a high floor. The police had helped me find it. I was terrified that Michael would send his friends my direction or his family would be outraged enough for retaliation.

I jumped as I heard a loud rap on the hotel door. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I could scarcely breathe. Was it one of his friends?! The knocking sounded again, more furiously.

On shaking legs, I crept to the door and peeked out the eyehole. I almost passed out with relief. It was only Derek.

But I didn’t want him to see me. Not like this. Not when I was so weak and so ashamed. I felt my heart being to crumble in my chest, giving into the hopelessness. I tried to creep away from the door and pretend I wasn’t there. I sat on the bed and clutched a pillow to my chest as I waited for the knocking to stop. And it did, quickly, but then my cell phone rang loudly. I scrambled to grab it from the night stand, to make it  _ shut up _ before Derek knew I was here. 

“I just called you. I can hear your phone,” he said loudly, his voice slightly muffled by the door, “Please, _please_ let me in. I know what happened.” 

Hearing that made my heart sink and my face flush with shame. My stomach dropped. I decided not to answer him. 

“Babygirl, please.” Derek tried again, knocking a bit softer, “I know it’s not your fault. I just...want to help. If you’ll let me.

I ached from some kind of comfort. It was stronger than the part of me that wanted to hide. I slid off the side of the bed and padded quietly over to the door. It clicked as I unlocked it. I pulled it open, ushering Derek in without looking at him. I kept my eyes on the ugly brown carpet. 

“Oh, babygirl,” his words came out so mournful. He closed the door softly, locked it, and turned to face me. He gently cupped my face and I finally looked up at him. His concern feel like a balm to a burn. 

“Not as bad as it looks.” I mumbled. He gave a sad smile, and gently rubbed his thumb across my unbruised cheekbone. 

“Tough little girl,” he said and then his smile vanished, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know what he was doing to you.” I raised my eyes to look at the ceiling as the tears started to slip down my cheeks,

“I was too stupid to see what was going on,” I said thickly and sniffled.

“That’s not your fault,” Derek said, “None of this is.” His hands left my face and he guided me into his arms. It was hard to be comfortable, every part of me aching as I leaned into him. I tried not to bump my broken nose on his collar bone. Even so, he held me, the warm of his body radiated into mine, soothing me. He rubbed my back slowly, murmuring words of love.

“Spend the night with me?” I asked, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course.”

 

 

I sat in the shower, knees to my chest, and scrubbed at the memories of Michael. Derek stayed in the bathroom with me, leaning against the tub wall. He talked to me through the shower curtain, keeping the conversation cheerful and light. It was reassuring to have him there. His presence alone chased away my dark thoughts. His voice eased my self-accusations. 

And when I started to cry, Derek reached through the curtain and gently touched my back, letting me know he was there. His hand was warm. 

I turned the water off,

“Hand me a towel?” I asked. I heard him stand and then the rustle of the curtain. His hand stuck though, holding the thin, cheap hotel version of a towel. I dried myself off and stepped out, a towel wrapped around me. Derek had already left, and there was a neat pile of clothes on the sink. His shirt and my only shorts. I pulled his t-shirt over my head and let it fall over me, big and loose and down to my thighs.

We had almost dated once before, Derek and I. But my low confidence had gotten in the way and I had backed out before we even started, thinking he was too good for me. Derek was muscular, clean-cut, handsome man. And a member of the BAU. He was always kind to everyone. And me, I was a bookworm, average hair, unnoticeable face, and a body that carried fat comfortably. So, instead, I dated Michael when he came along.

I came out of the bathroom, walked over to the bed where Derek already sat. He motioned for me to sit in his lap. I snorted and almost smiled. He grinned back,

“I’ll only hold you,”

I appreciated his transparency, especially since I couldn’t return it. I settled into his lap, too tired and too sore to be nervous. His arms circles around me, securing me against him. Not that I had any notion of moving anytime soon. I leaned back against him, tucking my head against the side of his cheek. I felt his chest rise and fall with each breath, and even the vibration of his voice in his chest as he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Tired. Angry.” I said slowly, and he lifted a hand to run it through my wet hair. I relaxed into him and whispered, “Thanks for coming,” 

He kissed the side of my head,

“I’m glad I did. I’ll stay as long as you need me to, babygirl.”

For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you'd like to request a oneshot, feel free to contact me on Archive or on my Twitter @Featherlight23!


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